


The Sun and The Ash

by Sirris_Sunless



Series: Linking of the Flame [1]
Category: Dark Souls (Video Games), Dark Souls I, Dark Souls III
Genre: Ashen One - Freeform, Chosen undead - Freeform, Completed, Friendship, Gen, M/M, Oneshot, Solaire of Astora - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-08
Updated: 2020-06-08
Packaged: 2021-03-03 22:34:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,963
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24603214
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sirris_Sunless/pseuds/Sirris_Sunless
Summary: One-shot and completed. The Undead has so much he wants tell Solaire, but the Undead could not speak. How can a wordless Undead save his own sun? How can this wordless Undead convey his message?This is a story about you, a story about me, a story about all of us. We all have so much we want to say to him, but ugh, the Undead could not speak.
Relationships: Chosen Undead & Solaire of Astora, Chosen Undead/Solaire of Astora
Series: Linking of the Flame [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1797904
Comments: 7
Kudos: 38





	The Sun and The Ash

**Author's Note:**

  * A translation of [太阳与灰烬](https://archiveofourown.org/works/24598387) by [Sirris_Sunless](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sirris_Sunless/pseuds/Sirris_Sunless). 



**1\. Sunlight Altar**

The Chosen Undead first met Solare at the sunlight Altar outside of Undead Burg.

“Ah, hello! You don't look Hollow, far from it!” The knight in an amusing helm turned to greet the Undead joyously. The Undead lifted his hand from his sword and exhaled in relief. This knight was not an enemy.

“I am Solaire of Astora, an adherent of the Lord of sunlight. Now that I am Undead, I have come to this great land, the birthplace of Lord Gwyn, to seek my very own Sun! … Do you find that strange? Well you should! No need to hide your reaction. I get that look all the time, Hah hah hah!”

Solaire let out a somewhat awkward laugh, awkward but hearty, to conclude his self-mocking. His self-mocking was not that good of a joke as the Undead took it seriously. He shook his head and shook again since he couldn't speak, so very assertively that Solaire could see it through the slit on his ridiculous helm.

“Ah hah! So I didn't scare you? Then I have a proposition, if you have a moment.”

The Undead nodded in response.

“The way I see it, our fates appear to be intertwined. In a land brimming with Hollows, could that really be mere chance? So, what do you say? Why not help one another on this lonely journey?”

The Undead could hear him smiling from his voice, something he hadn’t encountered in too long. Solaire’s cheering voice was a beam of light in this depressing, glooming Lordran. The Undead nodded fiercely, and his helmet made a clunking sound.

“This pleases me greatly! Well then, take this.”

Sounding brighter, Solaire reached for a white soapstone and handed it to the Undead. The Undead stared at it, baffled. He was new to Lordran and had not seen many gimmicks. So Solaired explained,

“The flow of time itself is convoluted here. There's no telling how much longer your world and mine will remain in contact. But use this to summon one another as spirits, cross the gaps between the worlds, and engage in jolly cooperation! Of course, we are not the only ones engaged in this. But I am a warrior of the Sun! My summon sign has a brilliant aura. If you miss it, you must be blind! Hah hah hah!”

The Undead nodded once again and kept the white soapstone in his inventory. He yearned for more long-lost conversation, or simply for the warmth of someone standing alongside him, but he could not stay here, since the Undead bear a mission. He wanted to invite Solaire to explore the parish. However, the sunlight warrior only saw the intention of departure from the silent Undead, so Solaire turned his eyes back to the sky.

“Well, be safe! I will stay behind, to gaze at the Sun...If only I could be so grossly incandescent!”

  
  
**2\. Anor Londo**

Cautiously, the Undead pushed on the door, planning against incoming attacks. First, block the silver knight’s strike, then go around him and stab……

The door opened, but the Undead didn’t hear any silver knight, instead he heard the quiet cracking of a bonfire. Before the bonfire sat the one who helped him in jolly cooperation. Solaire waved to the Undead in surprise and merriment.

“Oh, there you are. You've been quiet these days. Smooth summoning out there?”

The Undead felt a light pang at that question. He shook and then nodded in shame. His journey was not smooth at all, and Solaire’s summon sign was his only reason to remain human--- after all, a hollow could not summon a phantom. Solaire’s phantom made the Belfry Gargoyle an easy fight and saved the Undead from a throbbing death. 

Unlike the Undead, Solaire was on top of the heap, his amor still shiny and clean, the mark on his chest piece still bright and vivid. His voice, as ever, still filled with passion and delight,

“Oh, good! Anytime you see my brilliantly shining signature, do not hesitate to call upon me. You've left me with quite an impression. I would relish a chance to assist you.”

The Undead blinked at the last part, but Solaire could not see it. Then he nodded as a reply, and came to sit next to the other man. He wanted to speak with Solaire more, for the sunlight warrior’s jolly voice was a comfort in this somber city, but he could only recall a few silly gestures. He tried to wave, to beckon Solaire to talk. The Sun warrior’s comical helmet tilted in confusion, and then a laughter bursted from under.

“Hah! You really are fond of chatting with me, aren't you?” He said to the mute Undead, “If I didn't know better, I'd think you had feelings for me!”

The wordless undead became more speechless thus. His speechlessness was not seen from the loss of words, but the stiffness in his body. His helmet and armor ceased clinking and fell into a deadly silence. Solaire realized what he had said, and quickly tried to take it back with an awkward chuckle, 

“Oh, no, dear me. Pretend you didn't hear that! Hah hah hah!”

The Undead quietly thanked the almighty god that he had his helmet as a cover, as he felt fire burning from his neck all the way to his cheeks. 

**3\. Sunlight Altar**

The Sun was Gwyn. The Sun was the Nameless King. The Sun was light. The Sun was fire. The Sun was the only warmth supporting this falling world. But the night always comes, and the fire always fades. Most of Lordran was already consumed by the dark.

The Undead’s pyromancy mentor, Laurentius from the Great Swamp, once told him that everyone's body contained fire, and pyromancy was the art of manipulating that flame. Laurentius quoted his own master,

_"We are born into dark, and warmed by fire, but this fire we cannot touch."_

_"Those whose fascination with fire persists, learn to hold it in their own hand."_

Laurentius shared his flame with the Undead, to kindle and reinforce the Undead’s own flame. After the Undead came back from Demon Ruins, Laurentius sensed the chaos pyromancy in him. So the Undead told his mentor where to go. When they met again at the bottom of Blighttown, Laurentius already went hollow.

Laurentius was the first flame to fade in the Undead’s world, his only legacy being that fire he added to the pyromancy flame. When the Undead emerged under sunlight once again, he felt hollow himself. Even the grayish yellow clouds on the sky sting his eyes. He wandered to the sunlight Altar, seeking encouragement from the Sun just as Solaire would be. But this time, Solaire was not gazing at the Sun.

“Hmm! Ah, oh…hello there. Forgive me, I was just pondering…about my poor fortune.”

The sunlight warrior was dwelled in thoughts, didn’t even see the undead approaching. The exuberant energy in his voice somehow faded. The undead stared at Solaire intensely, fear brimming in his mind.

“I did not find my own Sun, not in Anor Londo, nor in Twilight Blighttown. Where else might my Sun be? Lost Izalith, or the Tomb of the Gravelord… ?”

For once, the Undead could not shake or nod, because he did not have an answer. And in his blurred memory, there were no laughable gestures to represent his thoughts.

“But I cannot give up. I became undead to pursue this!”

Now the Undead nodded fiercely. He pointed at the Sun, hoping that Solaire could understand. He wanted to say that the Sun would always be there and he would find it one day. But the crestfallen sunlight warrior simply stared at that glowing body and said,

“But when I peer at the Sun up above, it occurs to me… what if I am seen as a laughing stock, as a blind fool without reason? Well, I suppose they wouldn't be far off! Hah, hah, hah...”

His laughter was bitter this time. The Undead shook his head, almost shaking his helmet off. The clinking noise forced Solaire to turn away from the sky. The Undead lighted his pyromancy flame. He wanted to give it to Solaire, but Solaire could not understand.

“What is it, my friend?” He asked, puzzled, “You learned pyromancy? You’ve done well!”

The Undead shook again and took one of Solaire’s hands. He wanted Solaire to take this flame, but he also knew that this was all in vain, just as the way Solaire put it,

“You are an odd one, friend! I can’t do pyromancy, you’d only burn my skin! Hah hah hah!”

  
  
**4\. Demon Ruins**

The Undead had not seen Solaire for a long time.

He had summoned his phantom, of course. Before the guardians of Anor Londo, before the Gaping Dragon. No guiding light could match the golden phantom of a sunlight warrior. The Undead wanted to know how Solaire was doing. So he nodded, shook his head, and made gestures in front of the phantom, hoping it could react, but the phantom never gave any response.

Accompanied by Solaire’s phantom, the Undead came before the Centipede Demon. His heart sank low when he saw the dreadful landscape. Could a phantom see the lava? How could he fight alone if Solaire was consumed by fire?

The battle would not wait. The Centipede Demon forced the Undead into burning lava and then up the cracking floor. To the Undead’s surprise, Solaire’s phantom moved across the flame and stood with him side by side, facing the demon as a comrade.

Solaire! The Undead cried in his mind. Maybe the phantom did see everything, he thought, maybe the phantom just could not talk, maybe right now, under that helmet, Solaire was laughing at my rusty skill. 

The Centipede Demon’s corpse faded to air, and the phantom followed through. The Undead ran across the lava in excitement and marched forward, until he saw the warrior of sunlight in that cave. Solaire, whose mere phantom was invincible, now sat in low spirit on the floor, muttering to himself,

“…Why?…Why?…After all this searching, I still cannot find it…”

It was then when the Undead gave up the thought to run up to Solaire, no matter how much he wanted so. For the Sun must be proud, and a proud Sun would not wish to be seen when it was at its darkest time.

He walked back out and squashed the lava with one foot, loudly. Only after that splashing fire stirred Solaire, the Undead went to greet his friend once again. 

**5\. Lost Izalith**

After a short reunion, Solaired bade the Undead farewell. The Undead could not persist, since he could not speak. Neither could he find gestures of “comfort” or “encourage” in his ragged memory. His inventory was filled with shiny gems and embers, but none of those was Solaire’s Sun.

The Undead wanted to hear more from Solaire indeed. He wished Solaire could talk about the Sun God and his warriors, just as how Laurentius told the history of men's inner flames. He wanted to know how Astora fostered their honorable knights. He wanted to know about his past and future plans. Or, he simply wanted to hear Solaire’s terrible jokes and his blissful laughter.

The Undead started to leave signs with the white soapstone. He soon figured that the sign was a little part of himself, independent of his state of being. Even after he dies, one who touched the sign could still summon his phantom. So he would never know if Solaire ever called upon him. He could only move forward. He defeated the Demon Firesage and opened the path to Lost Izalith. Among withering branches and scattered stone, he saw clusters of fascinating bugs. One of the bugs jumped on him, almost blinded him with beaming light.

And then, in the ruins of Izalith, the Undead saw Solaire, his particular helmet gone, instead a chaos bug clinging to his head.

“Hrg, rg… Arrrgh…… Finally, I have found it, I have!…… My very own Sun… “

Solaire stood in the dark narrow hall. Like a deity blinded by his fall into purgatory, he summoned lighting spears and launched them aimlessly to midair. 

The Undead blocked the lighting spears and ran up to Solaire. He exhausted all his wits to remember all the language he knew in his long-past lifetime. From the first utterance of “Mama” to garrulous speech, from grudging bargaining to the oath of knighthood, from the most spiteful curse to the most truthful confession. But the Undead still could not talk. He abhorred this silence, his heart bursting with word. But he could not even pray to gods for a chance to speak. 

The Undead clenched his chest and choked his throat, but there was nothing he could say. Only his heart pounded in grievance. The rhythm of his striking heart was so intense, that it brought his withered chest and vocal cord to move along, allowing the wordless Undead to let out a broken cry, cry of his name.

“Solaire!”

“Solaire!!!”

In the ruins of Lost Izalith, a dark, long hallway crept with chaos bugs, echoed the croaking call from a wordless undead.

“Solaire, Solaire!"

The wavering sunlight straight sword finally came to rest. The Undead caught the knight by his wrists. Lighting burned their hands black and roasted. He called Solaire’s name, again and again, trying to pull the chaos bug off his head. Eventually, Solaire ceased struggling. His sword fell to the floor, and the lighting quieted. He raised a trembling hand and reached for that of the Undead.

“Is...is that you... my friend?”

His warm, heavy breath blew into the dark. The chaos bug was tossed onto the floor, becoming a useless, dead sunlight maggot. This was the first time the Undead saw Solaire’s face behind his helm, and his wide-opened, sky blue eyes. The Undead lost his voice once again.

He could only hold tightly onto Solaire’s hand and stroke his face, nodding fervidly, so that the clinking helmet could reply.

“Ah… so dark...”

The warrior of the Sun muttered.

“My Sun… it’s setting…”

The Undead took off his own helm, and pressed his forehead against Solaire’s. Both his helmet and their faces were covered in burning tears.

  
  
**6\. After Lost Izalith**

The Undead left the bonfire when Solaire was still asleep. A proud warrior of sunlight would not wish anyone to see his mishap. Before he left, the Undead exhausted all remaining words and language in his memory, to form a message to Solaire.

_“Light ahead, praise the Sun! Try hope. Don’t give up!”_

If Solaire could see the message after his awakening, he would see the Undead’s phantom pointing at where he reclined.

_“Light ahead, praise the Sun!”_

**7\. Kiln of the first flame**

The Undead spotted Solaire’s summon sign atop the stairs before Lord Gwyn. In contentment, he knew that Solaire did not give up, and made it here even earlier.

He summoned the phantom. He defeated Gwyn. He touched the flame. The flame devoured his right hand, left hand, and eventually his body. The first flame merged with Solaire’s fading phantom, and burned the Undead to ashes.

  
  


**Lastly, Cemetery of Ash**

The bell tolled. The Undead awoke as the Ashen One. The fire faded and the Lords went without thrones, so he had to bring their cinders back.

Long time has passed. Lordran existed no more. In this distorted world, the Ashen One searched for Lords, for hope, as well for his past.

He met many familiar souls. The deserter Hawkwood, crestfallen like the Crestfallen Warrior. Pyromancer Cornyx, soft-spoken just like Laurentius. Anri of Astora, an honorable knight that reminded him of Oscar. Sorcerer Orbeck, indulged the same curiosity that drove Griggs. Siegward of Catarina, who shared the spirit of Siegmayer and Sieglinde…

He also saw phantoms of other adventurers. Some were ephemeral white shadows flashed across his world. Some were more opaque and real, even able to wave to him. Accompanied by those phantoms, the Ashen One traveled across the land of Irithyll, Anor Londo, Lothric, Archdragon Peak… He helped a bunch in need and in return received assistance from the followers of the Sun. But he never found Solaire.

Sometimes during his travel, he would stop to gaze at the Sun, and the gigantic Darksign in the sky.

When the Ashen One reached the end of this world, the kiln of the first flame, he saw a familiar figure by the unlit bonfire. Someone wearing an amusing iron helm, and an amor marked with the symbol of the Sun, his head lowered in thought as he reached to light the flame.

“Solaire!”

The Ashen One cried, suddenly regained his voice. He ran to him, only to pass through the body of the sunlight warrior. That was just a phantom, the Ashen One realized, like every other phantom passed by his world. He saw the phantom of Solaire lit the kiln and gestured “Praise the Sun”, then the flame climbed up the warrior’s shoulder and ascended toward the sky.

Solaire was the flame, the light, the Sun.

Solaire became the flame, the light, the Sun.

It was him who linked the first flame, bestowing centuries of life to this world while the Undead burned to ashes. The Undead, no, the Ashen One, realized that fact, but did not feel envious at all. Showered in sunlight, the Ashen One stepped into the kiln. Its familiar warmth felt like a hug from an old friend. 

Heat rose inside the Ashen One. He closed his eyes in contentment and fed his soul to the fading flame.

His only regret, if any, was that he wasn’t by his side when Solaire became the Sun.

-The End-

**Author's Note:**

> A very unrelated sequel to this story is about Orbeck of Vinheim and the Ashen One, via the link below:  
> https://archiveofourown.org/works/24851866
> 
> Thank you for reading!


End file.
